Quetta Flowers
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Camera Nikon D7000
Exposure 0.005 sec (1/200)
Aperture f/4.5
Focal Length 38 mm
ISO Speed 3200
Lens Model 18.0-105.0 mm f/3.5-5.6
A Pathan Tribal Waitting for the incoming Train from the Border Town Chaman (connecting Pakistan with Afghanistan) for Quetta at Qilla Abdullah Station, Balochistan Province, Pakistan
The ignored, beleagured IDPs (internally displaced people), an outcome of floods and armed conflict, living in the heart of Quetta, a small colony of camps.
Balochistan military occupation, insurgency and regular abduction & killings of Civil Society representatives and academicians is hair raising.
ODC: Part of the Picture
I always wonder why birds choose to stay in the same place when they can fly anywhere on the earth, then I ask myself the same question.
I spent a little time on the streets of Quetta before heading to Iran. It was so much fun to shoot arround on the streets of Quetta. You can see why:-)
First attempt at capturing Milky way. It was so much haze and light pollution that had to do some pretty nasty post processing to make it pop. Dont know if i did it right or wrong but I'm quite happy though.
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Last year I captured this after getting numerous shots from a vantage point. It really was beautiful.
No. 18 The Stamp
Some words make people grow. Other words make people small. The loud and angry words used by the man with the stripes on his shoulders made the guard at the departure hall shrink, smaller and smaller… I almost felt sorry for the guy as he opened the doors for us.
‘Right, we’ll call it a draw.’
Finally we were able to change our boarding passes. Now all we needed was to get through customs, board our flight and we’d be on our way home.
I passed through the passport check and waited for my brother further back in the cue. The customs officer took a look at my brother, leafed through his passport, put it aside and told my brother to wait at the back of the cue. What just happened? Time passed and I started to get worried. I surely did not want to miss our flight.
There was a stamp missing in my brother’s ‘service’ passport. It was missing an entry-stamp. Apparently some customs officer had had a bad day. Not this one. This man revelled in this inconsistency."
One supervisor appeared, then another. We tried again: "This is a service passport. If there is a problem, please contact the embassy." Reasoning of diplomatic pressure was clearly not going to work. To solve this problem we would have to return to the main police office in Quetta(!), fill in the proper paperwork and get the right stamp. I tried to stay calm and explain. “There is no time. We have a funeral to attend to.” I looked at my watch.
“Our cousin passed away on what was supposed to be her wedding day and now you are preventing us from being at her funeral because someone forgot to place a stamp somewhere!!”
Family ties play a large role in Pakistani society and there is a clear sense of importance of both weddings and funerals. Although rules are rules, maybe there was still a small heart in these robots. The supervisors negotiated in Urdu and decided to split up, one taking the ticket, the other taking the passport. We quickly decided to do the same and stick on the men like flies. Time was ticking.
British army officer on the horse "Whitby" in Quetta race course 1900. This race course was also called the Quetta Gymkhana. It was destroyed in the devastating 1935 Quetta earthquake. In its place nowadays is the Ayub Stadium.
No. 17 The Black Knight
After hearing the news that our cousin lost her exhausting fight against cancer, we decided to change our tickets, leave Pakistan and fly back to Europe as soon as we could. We could only hope to be with our family during the funeral.
A few phone calls and emails later we were confirmed on a KLM flight departing Karachi on Wednesday. All we needed to do was to get on a flight out of Quetta and get our boarding passes at Karachi airport. We let our family know, we would be there soon.
We said our goodbyes to my brother’s housekeeper Nazar and his family and got to Karachi airport without difficulties. That’s where the first challenge was upon us.
An armed guard blocked our access to the international departure hall. “Boarding pass, please”. I showed him my boarding pass and tried to explain to him that we were booked on an earlier flight and had to change our passes at the KLM desk. “This boarding pass is for next week. You can’t enter today.” “If we can’t enter, how will we get to the desk?”
The guard briskly pointed towards an office building closeby. “Ask there.”
Not impressed by the guard’s lack of friendliness, we entered the office building. It was rather dark and void for one very bored security guard, slumped in a run down seat. With a low voice he explained we should try our luck on the second floor. It was surreal. There was not a living soul to be found on the second floor. Maybe it was lunch time or something.
We returned to the departure hall empty handed and tried the grumpy guard again. “No boarding pass, no entrance!” “But there is no one in the office you just sent us.” “No boarding pass, no entrance!” He reminded me of the infamous Black Knight…”None shall pass!”
So, for the second time we entered the mostly empty office, not quite sure what to do now. Then my eye fell on the bored guard, still slummed in his old chair. I noticed some stripes on his shoulders. Maybe he could help. “Excuse me sir, you look powerful and high ranking. Would you be in power to help us?” My words seemed to have their effect as the guard seemed to grow and glow. His eyes widened as he rose from his seat. “Of course, sir! How can I help you?”